Life's Lessons
by Bananna
Summary: in a world where isildur destroyed the ring, evil finds a new servant and familiar faces are brought together to bring peace to middle earth. reviews are most welcome. should i contunue?
1. So it begins

Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable characters, however the plot line and some of the places mentioned are all mine.

This is an AU that I'm writing as a follow up to my other story, The Hardest Choice. I've taken some liberties with ages and stuff. I hope you enjoy.

He was not thrilled in the least. Gimli Gloin's son was a dwarf, and very proud of the fact. His beard was not very long yet, but it was growing. He looked up to his father in all that he did. He hoped one day that his beard would be as full and long as his father's. But right now, he severely questioned not only his fathers wisdom but his sanity as well.

"What do you mean I must stay here?" Gimli questioned irately.

"Do not take that tone of voice with me young one." Gloin said. "I mean precisely what I just said. You will stay here." Gloin held up his hand silencing Gimli before he could say another word. "Lord Elrond's scouts have reported that goblin activity in the passes is high this year. You have just begun your study with weapons and are not ready to face such creatures. You will stay here, and you will not cause any trouble. Lord Elrond has been more than gracious for an elf and you will respect him. If I hear that you caused even the slightest bit of trouble while we are gone, you will be working in the kitchens until your beard grows gray." Gloin threatened his son.

Gimli scrunched his face in disgust at the mention of working in the kitchens. That was women's work as far as he was concerned. He decided that it would be unwise to argue with his father further on the matter.

Gloin looked at his son. He was barely into his teens. His beard was starting to grow thick. He had not realized that he would have to leave his son when they had started out on this journey, especially not in the hands of elves. But Gandalf had said that these elves could be trusted. And he trusted Gandalf no matter how crazy the old wizard's ideas might seem.

He sighed. "I do not wish to leave you here any more than you wish to stay here." Gloin said as he looked at his despondent son, "if the way were safer then I would let you come. Perhaps if you were older and had more experience in fighting the vile creatures of this world I would let you follow. But right now, I just want you safe. Please understand Gimli, I just want you safe."

Many dwarves had been lost in the collapse brought on by the last earthshake. He had agreed to take his son with him because he did not want to return to the colony with news of a new home only to find that his son had been lost to another earthshake as well. He had been content to know exactly where his son was and what he was doing by bringing him along. But when they had heard the reports of how many of Saouron's vile creatures stood in their path, he had made the most painful decision of his life, to leave his son in the care of elves.

Gimli looked up to his father upon hearing this. He had never heard his father speak with that tone before. Perhaps there was something out there that really was too dangerous for him. Perhaps he could endure the company of these infernal elves for a little while. He looked into his father's eyes and saw what he knew, that his father loved him and only wanted what was best for him. "Very well." he mumbled, "I will stay." It wasn't as if he was consenting to a choice that had been given him, but it was an affirmation of his father's will.

It seemed as if a heavy worry had been lifted from his father's shoulders when he had said that. For his father seemed to straighten and smiled when he said "Good, I do not expect you to make friends, just be civil."

"How long will you be gone for?" he finally decided to ask, hoping that he would not be stuck in this elf hole for too long.

"I do not know." Gloin answered, "Months, possibly even a year or two. We will be scouting the Gray Mountains for a more stable place for the colony. I think Thorin wants to see if the dragon still holds the Lonely Mountain hostage."

There was silence between father and son for a moment. Then Gloin abruptly broke the silence "Bah, enough of this talk, what say you, shall we go and get some food?"

It was true that the elves that he had met since the company of dwarves had entered the last homely house had been the first and only elves that Gimli had met, and therefore had no basis for his bias, this nevertheless did not stop him from disliking the fey creatures. But if there was one thing about elves that Gimli would never complain about, it was their cooking. So accepting what was to come, he set off with his father toward the dining hall. Perhaps that human boy he had seen earlier would be ok to hang out with.

Estel was not having a good day. First of all his father would not let him accompany his brothers on their hunting trip, then he had forgotten about the history paper that Erestor had assigned, and now he had to attend dinner in his formal robes and just because some dwarves were leaving tomorrow. He sourly changed his comfortable trousers and shirt for the heavy, hot, formal robes that had been neatly laid on his bed by Eleanor. He had just barely shrugged the outer robe over his shoulders where there was a knock on his door. "Yes." he said.

"It would behoove you to rid yourself of that tone before you reach the dining hall." Elladan said. "And brush your hair." Elrohir said with exasperation as he reached for the brush that lay atop the bureau. Elladan and Elrohir were his older brothers, whom he would not be aloud to accompany hunting on the morrow.

"My hair is fine." he stated rather tersely. "Now, now brother dear," Elladan said, "just because you are human is not reason for you to look like one." "Shall I," Elrohir said as he approached his little brother with hairbrush in hand, "or will you cooperate?"

Estel scowled. "Fine." he said as he snatched the brush from his brother's outstretched hand. "Oh, don't be such a sour puss." Elladan said, "You will get to come hunting with us when you are older." "Elladan and I did not get to go hunting until we were well into our late 700's1" Elrohir said.

"Well if everyone lives by that standard, I will never get to go hunting." Estel said with a pout. "Hunting isn't really that exciting." Elladan said to try to assuage his brother. "Yah," Elrohir added, "First you have to track the thing, then you have to sit for hours waiting for the perfect moment and then, after you soot the deer, you have to skin it, and clean it." "And then you have to carry it back before it starts to stink." Elladan followed.

"Besides which," Elrohir said, "you must know how to handle a weapon." The two elves had almost succeeded in talking their brother out of his sour mood, but this was exactly the wrong thing to say.

"I know how to handle a weapon." Estel insisted. It was eerie really, how his brothers did the exact same thing at the exact same time. The two elvin brothers arched one (if you count one per elf then it would be two) finely shaped eyebrow in skepticism. "Estel," Elladan said, "being just barely able to hold a sword without falling over is not handling a weapon."

Estel frowned and folded his arms across his small chest. "For your information I successfully completed the first form last week."

Elladan shook his head, "Come we will be late for dinner, and father will be upset." "I would suggest replacing that scowl with at least a neutral face. Father is on a short temper with the dwarfs around." Elrohir said. With that last remark the twins turned and started toward the dining hall, trusting that if their younger brother knew what was best for him that he would follow, which he did. All the way to the dining hall mimicking, with little flattery as children often do, the conversation that he had just had with his elder siblings.

1 I'm figuring about 100 human years is about 2 elf aging years


	2. Trouble with two

Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable characters, however the plot line and some of the places mentioned are all mine.

Greenwood, the greatest of the forests of the Northern world; only the forest of Fanghorn was older, and only the great Mallron trees in the woods of Lothlorien grander. Men and dwarves thought it the most dreadful place in the whole of middle earth.

The trees were large and grew closely together. Sunlight fought to breach the canopy of dark leaves. Mosses and ivy tangled about the branches and hung like curtains and spread along the ground like a soft spongy carpet. The air was still and stuffy. The silence was thick and oppressive. Few animals could be seen through the dim atmosphere. Black squires flitted about, and here and there a giant black bat would hang from a dark branch. Cobwebs made of strands unusually large draped from tree to tree. Though, as if by magic, none draped across the occasional path1.

It was beneath this gloomy sea of green that the wood elves made their home. Like the outer edges of their forest, the wood elves were not particularly welcoming to strangers. They were a cautious and strong race of elves. Their magic was strong, and as one drew nearer to their stronghold the forest grew less gloomy. The forest loved the elves as much as the elves loved the forest. And so it was happier near them. The leaves were not so dark. The air was fresh. Birds sang, and sunlight danced merrily down through the leaves to warm a carpet of wild flowers and mosses and fallen leaves. Clear, cool streams bubbled here and there, some collected in small ponds, and others fed into the Great Forest River.

The Great Forest River flowed down from the Ered Mithrin, the Grey Mountains, to the long lake. It was to the banks of this river that the elves had fled when the number of foul creatures began to multiply in the southern borders of their realm. The elves made their homes in the trees or on the ground. And their king, Thranduil Oropherion, had carved his palace out of the hills that rose over the north bank of the river.

The caverns and tunnels that created the palace of the wood elf king were not like those of dwarves or goblins. They were open and light, many of the outer halls opened up to the forest and wove in and out of the hills. In the halls where the sun's rays did not reach, bright torches blesses with elfin magic shown so that it was almost as bright as the wood outside. The walls and ceilings were carved and painted with such skill that the halls resembled the surrounding forest. Fresh flowers and saplings lined and scented the halls.

Deeper within these halls than most elves were comfortable with were the private chambers of Thranduil Oropherion the Wood Elf king. He sat behind his great oak desk upon which were scattered various parchments and papers. His two eldest sons, Morethir the crown prince and Beleghil chief captain of Mirkwood's armies, sat in high backed chairs carved of the same oak wood that the desk was. They were discussing the recent attack on one of the southern most colonies of elves. "I have sent scouts already to investigate their numbers and their positions." Beleghil said

"That is well. But this is becoming too frequent." Morethir said, "Their desperation brought on by the harsh winter has made them bold. Each attack they make is closer to the more populated areas of the forest and the palace."

"The forest is out of balance. We must prepare…" Thranduil said, his eyes were glazed over as if in a walking dream, but dreaming he was not. His connection to the forest was unusually strong even for wood elves. There was silence in the room for a moment.

"Father…" Morethir finally prompted. Thranduil blinked. "I sense more brewing in the south than simple desperation brought on by a winter of starvation." he said gravely, "Call up the brigades. And send word to the outer colonies that all should come back to the city for a season." This was serious indeed. Wood elves roamed freely though the lighter parts of the wood. It was only on the rare and most dangerous occasions that the people were ordered to return to the full protection of the palace and surrounding hills. It was alarming indeed, but it had happened before. Morethir was about to get up to pen letters to the outer colonies and Beleghil was about to find his captains and order a full gathering of the Mirkwood army.

"Beleghil," Thranduil said, "I want you to gather three of your best warriors, warriors that you would trust with your brother's life." Beleghil paused he was half sitting and half standing, and looked at his father, his delicate brows furrowed in slight confusion. "I am sending Legolas to Imladris." That more than anything confirmed the seriousness of the upcoming events. Beleghil nodded and with new understanding of the danger in store for the elves of Mirkwood in the near future the two eldest princes left hastily to carry out their duties. He was being selfish he knew, but something else told him that this was what needed to be done. As the door closed Thranduil gave a heavy sigh and began to write a letter.

"ESTEL!" The calm of the peaceful spring morning was shattered and the being that belonged to that one name cringed somewhere in the valley. Lord Elrond was usually a composed elf, not given much to shouting. But he was also unaccustomed to having buckets of cold water and flour being dropped on him when he opened doors. The prank wars that had gone on between his sons had lasted long enough.

"You did put the water and flour above Elrohir's door, did you not?" Estel asked Gimli. His tone sounded slightly panicked to the dwarf. "Of course I did." Gimli stated indignantly, "A dwarf's memory is the sharpest thing there is, second only to the blade of his ax of course."

"Good." Estel said, the knot in his stomach loosening at the dwarf's affirmation. The two walked into the front hall where they were greeted by a smiling Elrohir. The lack of his being soaked and covered with flower sent Estel's stomach into knots again.

"Father would like to speak with you two." He said pleasantly enough. Estel through a sharp look toward Gimli who only shrugged back. The duo continued down the hall toward Elrond's study.

How one could look so calm and poised while sopping wet and covered with flour was beyond Gimli. Elrond Halfelfin sat behind his huge desk in his study, his elbows resting on the arm rests of his elegant high backed chair, hands steepled before him. Elrond stared good and hard at the two before him, enjoying making them squirm. He had had enough.

"I have had enough." He stated. Estel and Gimli gulped simultaneously. Elrond was angry. That didn't happen very often. Just as he was about to deal out his punishment there came a knock at his study door. He caught himself from snapping and took a deep calming breath. "Yes." he answered tersely.

A dark haired elf timidly poked his head in. "My Lord." he said. Elrond arched an eyebrow as if to say 'well, out with it'. "The boarder guard reports that riders clad in green and brown have just entered the valley. If left unchecked, they will reach the city gates within the hour."

Normally Elrond knew of everything that went on in his valley, by means that would remain undisclosed to the public at large. So it disturbed him slightly to not have had any warning whatsoever about these riders until they were nearly at his gate. 'Of course,' he thought, 'it doesn't help when you are distracted by cold water and flour first thing in the morning and having to discipline your children and charges for foolishness they should have out grown centuries ago.

"My Lord…" the elf prompted. Elrond blinked, "Let them come." he said. "They probably hail form Greenwood, though I have no idea what business Thranduil would have to send riders here for."

"Shall we prepare guest rooms for them?" the elf asked. Not knowing the purpose of their visit Elrond hesitated. "I suppose it would not hurt, just in case." He said. "Yes my Lord." The elf said and then exited.

Having completely forgotten about the two errant youth that he had called in to chastise Elrond sat and pondered what reason Thranduil could possibly have for sending riders to him. His thoughts were interrupted when a floor board creaked. He snapped his attention back to the two standing before his desk.

"Report to the kitchens, you two have dish duty until I say otherwise." Both Estel and Gimli were about to argue. "I do not care who started it Estel. I am tired of this foolishness. And guest in this house or not, you have been place in my charge while your father is away and you will do as I have said Gimli. I would have thought that you would not let yourself be pulled into such childish behavior."

"I will have no arguments." He stopped them cold. "I will deal with Elladan and Elrohir as necessary. You are dismissed, report to the kitchens." Elrond finished.

Frowns set firmly in place; both Estel and Gimli stomped out of the study, leaving Elrond to return to his musings.

He was more aware of what was going on than his family gave him credit for. He could hear the change in the forest's song just as clearly as his father could. What he couldn't understand was why his father was sending him away when his father was going to need every elf that could use a bow with any skill. Yes he was young, but he had already mastered both blade and bow. He did not ignorantly wish to seek out the evil that was plaguing his father's realm, but if the coming darkness was any where as near as powerful that the forest feared, then he would have to face its evils sooner than later. And he was not one to put things off.

They had made good time in passing the great plains that stood between Greenwood and the Misty mountains. They were also fortunate to have good weather through the high pass. Though the path to Imladris was well disguised and hard to find for mortals and indeed most elves, it was a good opportunity for the sylvan elves to exercise their woodcraft. In all actuality they had little difficulty picking up the trail to the hidden valley. Once that was accomplished all they had to do was pay attention to the path and follow the well placed little white markings on stones and trees.

They knew as soon as they set upon the trail that they were being watched by the boarder guards. Legolas knew form experience at home that the guards had probably sent word ahead to the Lord of Imladris that they were approaching. That was probably the reason why their progress had not been stopped.

They had begun the steep decent into the valley. Legolas eagerly absorbed the sight before him. The forest's song was different here. Not only was it peaceful, but there was something else there, a sadness of sorts. He couldn't quite describe it. Soon the breath taking sight of the falls of Bruinen came into view. The forest river that ran through Greenwood was swift and dark. The falls of Bruinen were as white as the first snows of winter. Legolas was mesmerized by the graceful dive of the river down the cliff face. They were still far enough away that the falls looked small. He knew the whispering of trees well enough to know the sound he heard was the sound of the water crashing against the rocks and churning in the many pools that broke up the Bruinen's descent into the valley. He was impressed.

The city too was beautiful. He could see, as they approached, the open nature of the architecture; how the buildings incorporated the trees and rivers that flowed through the valley into their design so as not to interfere with the course of nature. He was not surprised by this. But what did surprise him was that the were actually buildings and houses, not the flets and small cottages that his kin would build in the forest, if they built anything at all. He was so taken with the beauty of the valley that had he not been on horse he would have walked right off the bank into the churning river that currently separated his party from the elf city of Imladris.

"Legolas, pay attention now." Sorin, one of his guards said. Legolas snapped his wandering eyes back to the elf that had spoken. He was more annoyed with himself than with Sorin. He mentally berated himself. After all how was he to become a warrior that would be of use to his home and not some child to be sent away when danger threatened if he continually lost himself to the awe of a new setting?

They were crossing a bridge now. It was unlike the bridge that crossed the great forest river to the halls of his father. The bridge to his father's halls was narrow, only allowing for two elves at most to walk abreast. This bridge was wide enough for a wagon to travel across, with room to spare on either side. The bridge ran over the noisy waters and under the outer wall of the city. Flowering vines grew up the sides of the walls masking the stones with colorful life.

As they entered the city proper he was once again struck with a sense of somberness. The morning air was crisp and cool. Their path lead them to a wide open court where they halted and dismounted. Immediately after his feet touched the ground there was an elf waiting to take his horse from him to settle him in for the night. He was amused by the other elf's puzzlement over how he would accomplish such a thing for his horse had no bridle with which to lead him with.

"If he will not follow you I will care for him myself." he told the other elf quietly. It appeared as though the elf was going to say something in reply but was cut off.

"Greetings to you." Legolas turned toward the deep voice to see a dignified looking elf. He stood tall and imposing in his many velvet robes. Legolas assumed that this must be Lord Elrond Peredhel. The four of them put their hands cross their hearts and gave a short bow as was the fashion of elfin greeting. "I welcome you to the last homely house." Elrond finished.

"Thank you my Lord." Sorin said. Sorin continued before the elf lord could offer any rest or refreshment, "We have an urgent errand that we must discuss with you."

"Certainly," Elrond said, "But surly you and your party would wish to rest after such a journey?"

"We cannot tarry long my Lord. We must leave as soon as our message is delivered." Sorin said.

He really was not prepared to handle business with the woodland realm, but he could see there was no detouring the elves before him. "Very well, shall we speak in my study?" Elrond said.

The elf gave a nod and then turned to the rest of his party. It was while the elf was speaking with his companions that Elrond noticed something. One of them was still a child. He overheard the elf telling the other two adults to see that they and the horses were fed and rested by the time he was finished speaking with the elf Lord. The child was to follow. The thought that the elfling reminded him of someone tugged at his mind as he led them toward his study.

1 from JRR Tolkein's The Hobbit


	3. Enter a third

"Not that I mind not working in the kitchens, but I don't think ignoring your father's orders is a good idea either." Gimli stated quietly.

"We are not ignoring my father's orders. We are simply taking the long way to the kitchens." Estel answered.

"Then why, pray tell, must we slink in the shadows?" Gimli asked.

Estel threw him a look that said 'stop asking pointless questions'. "Do you want to see the riders from Greenwood or not?"

The deeper part of him that only his close family knew did indeed want to see the riders from Greenwood. After all, the Lonely Mountain was to the East of the great forest. His father would have to pass through it if they pushed on to investigate their ancient home. But the part of him that he showed the world at large, the tough, prideful part of him that he hid behind, didn't want anything to do with more elves. They were all the same as far as that part of him was concerned. So he shut up and grumpily followed his human friend toward the open court yard.

As the open court yard came into view, Gimli had to admit to himself that he was mistaken. Not all elves were the same. The elves with which he had been surrounded these last months had dark coloring, willowy, and always so melancholy. These elves were something altogether different. They were tall and slim but with a sturdy build and golden hair. While the elves of Imladris wore no weapons openly, these elves were armed to the teeth, each with bow, full quiver and long knife. Two of them had what looked to be pouches of throwing knives strapped to their thighs. One of them had a dagger sheathed and strapped to his upper arm. Three of their horses had broad swords strapped to them. "They probably have knives hidden in every fold of cloth." He thought as he looked them over.

The boys watched as Lord Elrond greeted the party. They were far enough away that they could not hear what was said. They saw two follow the stable hands, while the other two followed Lord Elrond into the house. As the party separated the two noticed that one was a boy. "That one there looks to be about your age." Gimli commented. He was immensely proud to learn that he was older than the human youth.

"No my friend," Estel said, "I can guarantee that he is most definitely not my age."

"You know what I mean." Gimli answered testily.

"I suggest that you make your way to the kitchens, 'else father will have something worse planned for you." The two watchers jumped in surprise and turned swiftly to meet their ambusher. Elladan looked at the wayward youth with an amused face, one eyebrow cocked.

"Elladan, you nearly scared the life out of me." Estel scolded.

"Well, if you had been doing what you are supposed to…"

"Oh, come on, we just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Who are they any way?" Estel questioned.

"Riders from the Green wood." Elladan said cryptically as he looked passed the two youth toward where his father and the two elves had entered the house.

"Well you're no help." Estel said. Gimli had remained quiet hoping to escape the notice of the unnerving twin.

"You will find out soon enough." He replied, "Now off with you. I am most certain that father will not want to deal with your antics today." He shooed the two away with his hands. The grudgingly left the twin to stand there, thinking to himself on the strange circumstances that would bring the royal guard to the Last Homely House.

On the way to his study, Elrond covertly studied the two elves that followed him. It wasn't easy, especially since they were behind him. He wracked his brain for where he had seen the older elf before. As they entered his study and he politely offered them a seat it came to him; "Sorin was a member of the royal guard. That meant…Thranduil must be out of his cotton pickin' mind." He thought. It was a human expression that he had heard and found amusing. He didn't have the chance to use it often but he thought it fit at the moment. He took a good look at the youth that now sat before him. The resemblance was clear now.

"My lord," Sorin interrupted his train of thought. "I bring a letter and a request from His Majesty King Thranduil." He said as he offered the letter to Elrond for his perusal.

Elrond accepted the letter, broke the seal and began to read. "Yes, definitely out of his cotton pickin' mind." He thought.

_Elrond Peridhil, Lord of Imladris, _

_I regret that times and stubbornness have caused our realms to grow apart. I know that on many points we do not see eye to eye and there is much that is hard to be forgiven between us. I ask a boon of you in this a desperate hour. The forest speaks to me of impending doom, a darkness so great that it threatens the light and life of the great Green Wood. I do not know if I can hold this darkness at bay. There is something familiar about this darkness that curdles my blood and brings to the forefront of my mind the blood fields of Mordor. _

_I ask that you grant sanctuary to my youngest. He is skilled and headstrong. He may have inherited my looks, but he is very much his mother's son. I fear that if he were to stay in the wood, innocence would be lost long before it's time. Please guard him and keep him safe. To my people he is the Green Leaf; the hope that spring will always come. To know that he is safe gives them and myself strength._

_My sincerest gratitude,_

_Thranduil __Oropherion_

_King of the Green Wood_

His mother's son hm. This should definitely be interesting. How had his home become a boarding house for youth of overprotective parents? He couldn't in his right mind refuse. The child was right there. Though he looked as though he would be elated if he did refuse, he couldn't. If Thranduil was worried about not being able to hold this new force at bay, then it was definitely something to worry about. He wondered now if the Lady Galadriel knew of this force at work. He would have to speak with her.

"My Lord Elrond." Sorin began, "I know it is much to ask of you on such short notice. It is also much to ask for you to make your decision quickly, as we are needed at the battle's front." At this statement, the youth's face imperceptibly soured. That 'we' didn't include him.

"It is nothing." Elrond said, "The young one may stay until the Green Wood is safe again." His words brought visible relief to the elder elf, and visible displeasure to the younger one. Why was it, he wondered, that youth were so eager to go to battle?

The decision being made, the two elves stood. "The whole of Green Wood thanks you for your generosity." Sorin said as he placed his right arm across his chest and bowed.


End file.
